


Paper Highs

by FairyLights101



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drinking, Drug Use, Drunken Kissing, Kissing, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9280946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyLights101/pseuds/FairyLights101
Summary: It still stung. Even more when they were together. Because he craved Tooru like a drug, his verybeingraw and potent, ripe for Takahiro to fall into intoxication from.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon/gifts).



> Requested by seijouho at my tumblr, [fairylights101writes](http://fairylights101writes.tumblr.com/), so follow me there!  
> 19\. Jealous Kiss

The frat house practically pulsed with how loud the music that thrummed through the speakers was, so heavy on the bass that Takahiro could feel it reverberate in his bones. And he wasn’t even in the main dancing room, not anymore. His body was hot and sticky with sweat, but the beer in his hand was cold, and he sucked it down, relishing in the chill, even if the cheap taste left a lot to be desired.  _ I’m not here to be picky. I’m here to get high or drunk, or something. _ Anything to make the night blur away, anything to take away the sight in front of him. 

On the arm chair diagonal from him Issei had pulled Tooru into his lap the moment they’d left the dance floor, right on his heels. Tooru’s legs were comfortably spread around Issei’s strong thighs, ankles hooked neatly beneath his knees. He giggled as Issei’s fingers combed through his hair, sweaty and wild, but still beautiful. A tan thumb dropped to his lips and Tooru smiled, took it into his mouth slightly. Takahiro’s stomach clenched, but he couldn’t look away. He just sipped at his beer, glum, and watched as Tooru and Issei leaned into each other and kissed, sloppy and full of laughter. 

_ I wish that was me. _

There was no use in thinking it  _ could _ have been him - he wasn’t Issei. He wasn’t as funny as Issei, wasn’t as handsome - the chip in his teeth wasn’t endearing, he still had yet to grow into his lanky body, he didn’t have a smooth, deep, rich voice that sounded like how good coffee tasted. His hands couldn’t span across Tooru’s waist and grip him tight like that. He couldn’t be confident like that. 

_ Maybe that’s why Issei got him. That’s why your best friend is dating the guy you’ve had a crush on since first year of high school. Why  _ he’s  _ fucking Tooru. _ So he was jealous of his best friend since middle school, sue him.  _ At least I’m not going to break them up or anything. I just… I want to be Issei. _

He wanted to be the one to pull Tooru onto his lap, to settle his hands over those slender hips and squeeze them tight, fingers in the dips of bone and sprawled across his firm, round ass, and then slide them down along his silky white legs. He wanted to kiss Tooru, all rough nips and twists of his tongue like the brunet seemed to enjoy. To tug on his silky brown hair in more than just a playful way - to bare his throat and lay hickies thick there, just like the ones all too visible there already, as well as on the insides of his thighs, flaunted in his booty shorts. 

Takahiro sucked down a breath and tore his gaze away, shook his head to clear his thoughts.  _ God, I’m such a creep, staring at them. _ Even worse to be imagining himself as one of them, but he couldn’t help it. A poison-green monster lay in his belly, and its claws were in deep. He drained the rest of solo cup and stared longingly at it, the bottom painfully visible, especially when he was still far too sober to be satisfying. 

A slick smack of lips made his gut churn.  _ Yep, too fucking sober for this. _

His muscles tensed, ready to rise, but a weight dropped down to his right and curled into him, warm and heavy. Hajime was disarmingly cuddly when he got drunk, and he clearly had gotten enough drinks in his system to have no qualms about practically draping himself over Takahiro’s side. Takahiro couldn’t complain though - Hajime was warm, his weight comforting, and Hajime pressed a drink into his hands as he settled his face into Takahiro’s neck. “Drink that, ‘m done for the night.” 

He didn’t protest and just tipped the cup back. His throat worked and some spilled out of his mouth, down his chin and neck to collect in his shirt, but he paid it no mind. Only once the drink was gone did he let his hand fall, and Takahiro sagged back into the couch. His eyes didn’t rise to the chair, but instead fell to Hajime, who’s deep green eyes were on him, owlish and as soft as his face, without a scowl for once. “Are you okay?” he said quietly, “You look kinda sick.” 

Takahiro’s eyes ached to flick back, but he kept them on Hajime as he licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah. I’m just tired.” 

“Mm.” Hajime buried his face back into Takahiro’s neck as he reached forward blindly, seeking out Takahiro’s hands until he supplied them. His friend eagerly took them up and turned his palms over so that they faced the ceiling, and then he began to clumsily trace the lines there. Takahiro smiled, fingers twitching at the tickling touch. If there was a go-to friend to be with when getting drunk, especially shit-faced, it was Hajime. He just got cuddly with the alcohol, loose with pot, and either way talked less than normal, which was saying something. 

Preferable to Issei’s extreme bubbly attitude and loud chatter, or Tooru’s giggly flirtations that he knew weren’t  _ really _ aimed for him, or intentional. But it still stung. Even more when they were together. Because he craved Tooru like a drug, his very  _ being _ raw and potent, ripe for Takahiro to fall into intoxication from. And he did, in an endless cycle of fluttering too close to his flame and feeling the burn of his pathetic addiction. 

Takahiro sighed. “I’m fine.” 

The fingers on his hand stilled for a moment. “You sound like you’re just tryin’ to convince yourself that.” 

Takahiro bit his lip and didn’t bother to respond. The only downside of being with drunk Hajime? He was still annoyingly observant. But the trails on his palm that moved to his arm were calming. Enough that the tension in his shoulders eased, and the claws from that disgusting green beast retracted a little. He managed a smile. 

“Heeey,” Tooru drawled, and they both looked up. He grinned at them, dopily, and waved a smoldering joint. “Want some?” 

Takahiro and Hajime both shook their heads, and Tooru shrugged with a goofy smile, teeth flashing and eyes sparkling. “Okay!” he chirped. He turned back to Issei, eyes soft with love, and Takahiro’s belly went tight again. He barely felt Hajime shift beside him. All of his attention was before him again. On Issei’s hands, how they’d rucked up Tooru’s shirt to show off thin pale sides. On the new marks that mottled his long, slender neck. On his lips, full and pouty, as they wrapped around the joint and he took a deep drag. 

He pulled it away from his mouth, but when Issei reached for the blunt he pushed his boyfriend back with a grin, smoke furling from his lips. Takahiro shuddered, but he didn’t dare close his eyes or look away, even as his stomach twisted in tight, hot knots, the jealousy painfully strong. Tooru leaned in and crowded Issei’s spaces until they were just a few centimeters apart, and then he exhaled into Issei’s waiting mouth. 

_ Shotgunning, _ Takahiro thought idly, fingers twitching on his cup, as smoke poured between them. Issei drank it in deep, eyes shut and a smile curling his lips. The smoke rolled away and dissipated, and then Issei tugged Tooru in and crushed their lips together. A happy noise broke through the throb of music, and Tooru wiggled closer in Issei’s lap as his free hand curled into that wild black hair. Takahiro could only flap his mouth like a fish, desperate for air he couldn’t quite get as he stared at the pair. 

Fingers trailed across his palm. He blinked. Shook his head and looked down. 

Hajime stared up at him still, eyes still frustratingly soft, and now full of calm understanding. “You like one of them?” 

Takahiro wanted to curl in and wheeze, but he just held Hajime’s gaze. “It doesn’t matter,” he snapped, bitter, and his hand clenched around Hajime’s. 

The other man shrugged, but he leaned closer. Enough that he could smell the beer and peppermint on his breath. That he could see individual hairs, though not his freckles in the dim light. “You should find someone else to focus on,” Hajime whispered. 

Takahiro just sneered. “I’ll do what the fuck I want.” But jealousy was a damnable beast, and it threatened to choke him, cloying and dark. It made him want to rise up and haul Tooru off Issei and kiss him. He wanted to  _ be _ Issei. To be the one who would crawl into bed with Tooru at the end of the night and kiss him, and maybe rub his back in the morning if he was sick, or cook for him if he wasn’t. 

_ I could do all those things for him. _ He could, but it was  _ Issei _ Tooru was in love with. And he wouldn’t do anything to hurt either of them. Ever. But it couldn’t stop the jealousy that threatened to eat a hole in his stomach. 

_ Maybe he’s right. It wouldn’t fucking help, but it’d give me something to focus on. _

He shifted in his little nook of the couch and caught Hajime’s face between his hands. Those green eyes fluttered wide and his lips parted, but that was all he had time for before Takahiro swept in. His lips were chapped, thin, but they were soft, and Takahiro kissed him recklessly, looming over him. He held there for a long moment, both of them breathing slowly through their noses, and then Takahiro laughed. 

_ Fine. _

He made to move back, but Hajime’s hands shot up and caught him, held him in place. His fingers dug into Takahiro’s chest, but he didn’t care. Pain grounded him. It chased the slick envy away, just enough. Takahiro clenched his eyes shut and pulled Hajime right on top of him with a huff, and then his mouth was back on him. 

This time it wasn’t chaste or simple. This time they met open-mouthed, all tongues and teeth, and quiet sounds that could have been snarls, or could have been happy whimpers, he couldn’t really tell anymore. Not that he cared either way. He just threaded his fingers through Hajime’s hair and drank him in, the taste of booze and all. Hajime, despite being cuddly, was aggressive. He nipped harshly at Takahiro’s teeth, demanding entrance, and Takahiro let him dominate. Allowed those blunt fingernails to drag at his chest as he gasped into Hajime’s mouth. A tongue slipped in and ran along his, heavy and slick, and Hajime’s head tipped to the side. 

Suddenly he was deeper, everywhere. All Takahiro could taste was Hajime. All he could  _ feel _ was  _ Hajime _ . Draped over him, practically in his lap. Chest to chest, only scrabbling hands between them. Harsh teeth that sank into his tongue, his lips, and made him whimper and squirm. A tongue that plunged in and explored his mouth as their lips rolled together, sloppy and uncoordinated at best. 

And all Takahiro could do was tug on Hajime’s hair. But some dim corner of his mind remained, slipped thoughts into his head. Another tug on those short dark locks.  _ It should be longer. _ A gasp of his name against his lips as they parted for a moment before they crashed back together, somehow messier than before.  _ The voice should be higher. _ A hand pressed against his chest, harder. Grounding. Takahiro growled, more to himself than anything, and batted the toxic thoughts away.  _ This is Hajime. Not Tooru. Tooru is happy. And he deserves it. Issei too. Hajime is here. Focus on Hajime. _

He felt something in him crack then, even as he kept kissing Hajime, no falter in the grind of their mouths or the frantic pawing of hands. His best friends were  _ happy _ . And he was being a petty, inconsiderate  _ jerk _ , being so jealous and stupid.  _ I need to move the fuck on. I can’t keep relying on him like some damn paper high. _ And if moving on meant distracting himself with his other best friend, if at least just for the moment, so fucking be it. He dragged his hands down Hajime’s back to his ass and palmed him hard, pulled him even closer. 

And Hajime grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> Give me a follow if you want. Comment if you liked. Hope you enjoyed and see ya next fic.


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